


stinson beach

by justalittlegreen



Series: Sunshine and Filth [26]
Category: MASH (1970), MASH (TV)
Genre: F/M, Marriage, but by golly we are going to get them there, futuretripping, peg and beej are only half the endgame, peggy jane, s6e15 the merchant of Korea, stinson beach
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-08-29 00:44:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16733787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justalittlegreen/pseuds/justalittlegreen
Summary: Tag for S6e15 "The Merchant of Korea"





	stinson beach

She almost doesn't tell him about Stinson Beach. Not out of spite, but genuine uncertainty. When the realtor calls and tells her that their plot -  _their plot_ \- is up for sale, her first instinct is to just go for it - sell the car, her wedding band, anything to make it work. 

Her second thought is  _what if he doesn't want to?_

What if that dream of a house by the ocean with the mountains at their back, that slice of heaven - what if that isn't BJ's dream anymore? Or worse - what if it still is, but not with her?

Peg tells the realtor that she'll get the money together within the week, and hangs up, teeth already at her fingernails. She bites them bloody when she's anxious - an old childhood habit her Ma cured by teaching her to polish them, and she usually keeps them pink or red, but they're bare these days, and ripe for chewing. The rush of it is heady - stomach flutters and the head-racing excitement of a sudden opportunity, with the paralyzing question of  _what if._

She has a week. Surely she can take the afternoon to think about it.

Erin is awake from her nap - Peg can hear her gurgling to herself in the bedroom. Peg moved the crib into the master the night after BJ left. It's convenient, and, though she'd never admit it to anyone, it's too hard to sleep there without the sound of another person's breath. Grateful for the immediate distraction, she heads for Erin, contemplating lunch and how quickly she can get them in the car.

The drive up to Marin County is shorter than she remembered. As they climb into the hills, Peg stretches her jaw, feeling her ears pop. Erin is singing and babbling in the back seat, a running commentary Peg can't help answering as if she's using real words - "Yes, those are houses! And that's a dog! And the light  _is_ red, you clever girl."   
  
The last time they drove up here, she was six months pregnant and BJ drove with one hand on the wheel, the other reaching for her belly whenever he wasn't shifting. He, too, couldn't stop talking - about the view, the beauty of the place, the assertion that it would be turned into something awful in the wrong hands. Peg remembers how he rolled the windows down, breathing in the salt, head out the window like a happy dog.

"Do you smell that, darlin'? I swear, I will never get sick of ocean up my nose." 

And now they're arriving - she's surprised she remembers the spot so well, but the rocks and trees look like they've been waiting for her. She lifts Erin out of the car, and tentatively - she should've worn tennis shoes, darn it - makes her way to the rocks where she and BJ watched the sunset, lost in their fantasy of someday.

It's a grayer day than the last one, but the view is no less breathtaking. Peg settles Erin on her hip, leaning back against a tree.   
  
"Do you smell that, baby?" Erin wrinkles her nose and buries her face in Peg's neck. Peg watches the waves roll in and out, chasing the lip of the beach. That's what she loved most of all - the ceaseless beating of the tides, the way the foamy edge of each wave reached to kiss the rocks. BJ could sit and listen and smell with his eyes closed, but Peg could look forever. 

BJ speaks in her mind again - another snippet lifted from the depth of memory.   
  
"I wonder if our baby will love the ocean like this."   
  
Peg takes a long breath, burying her nose in Erin's fine blond hair. She takes one more look at the water, then hightails it for the car, speeding as fast as she dares toward Western Union.

**  
  
It's strange to sign the papers without BJ there - one more way in which the war has brought her to situations she'd never considered. She's allowed to sign for him in absentia - it'll still be in his name, of course - and hands over the check for $200, twisting her engagement ring on her finger. She can't believe she considered selling it. As the realtor congratulates her, he hands her a small jar and explains, "I can't give you the keys, but maybe you can send the mister a little piece of this place with the photographs."

It almost surprises her how giddy she is, how she scoops the sandy soil into the jar, imagining BJ turning it over, imagining him building sandcastles with Erin. 

In this version, they are all together.  
In this version, they are cuffed pants and wet feet.  
In this version, there are a thousand sunsets to come.  
In this version, he says, "Can you believe this is ours, sweetheart? All ours."  
  
When she gets the phone call, she can hear him grinning through the static, and her heart takes a flying leap. "It's ours, Peg. Alllll ours. We'll start building the day I get home!"  
  
"Oh, mister," she says with a coquettish smirk she hasn't felt in her voice in months, "I have  _plans_ for that day."  
His laugh is so real. "Okay - the second day."

He hangs up, and Peg cradles the phone to her chest for a moment before she puts it gently back in the cradle. It's the first time she's been able to imagine them together and happy since Hawkeye's letter. For the first time in months, she feels sure.  
  


He's coming home -- to them.


End file.
